Kissed by Death
by hermionegarner
Summary: Have you ever wondered what death is like? The sensation of your soul being torn from your body into another world is completely incomprehensible. As humans, we are entirely whole, and the only way we cease to be so is through death... Usually.
1. Introduction

A/N: This is written in Ginny's point of view, first person. I'm sorry if my interpretation of her thoughts isn't entirely how you imagined it, but I have my own point of view and am sticking to it. Besides, this first chapter is only an introduction. You don't really see _Ginny _come out yet.

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_DISCLAIMER_: J.K. Rowling is a genius, and I am obsessed with her work. There is one question I have always had, though: _What happened to Barty Crouch Junior?_

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**INTRODUCTION**

Have you ever wondered what death is like? The sensation of your soul being torn from your body into another world is completely incomprehensible. As humans, we are entirely whole, and the only way we cease to be so is through death.

Usually.

Then again, who's to say that our bodies and souls are even separate entities? Who's to say we don't simply cease to exist when our bodies cease to function?

Who's to say we even have souls?

My personal belief has always been that we can exist without our souls, if we even have any. Dementors have proven that theory for me. When someone is a victim of the Dementor's Kiss, they are still living, only without some part of their being. Thus, a soul is not entirely essential to life.

But it is essential to emotion.

Let's go with the analogy to the victim of the Dementor's Kiss. That person basically becomes catatonic, unable to accomplish anything because of a complete loss of emotion and feeling. This could be linked to the loss of the soul.

If that is what they lose.

Isn't it possible, just maybe, that their souls remain intact? What if there is some other part of their make-up taken from them, for example, their metaphorical 'heart' or 'brain'? Or are those both included in the 'soul'?

Is there a soul?

These are typical questions that run through my mind on an every day basis nowadays. I think it's Hermione's fault; if it weren't for her, I wouldn't think things through too much. Ever since the two of us started spending time together, she has been posing these questions on me, making me _think_.

Life was so _simple _before she decided to open her big mouth! Don't get me wrong, I appreciate her _superior intellect_, but I _don't _appreciate her determination to make _everyone _think the way she does. It can be refreshing, but not when it makes you question everything you've previously learned.

I'm very glad to have her as a friend, though; she's been the big sister I never had. And to think, in a couple days, she _will _be my big sister! I'm extremely happy for both her and Ron, and I'm flattered to be Hermione's Maid of Honor, not that she really had anyone else to choose from. Still, the idea of seeing her day in and day out, listening to her go on and on about theories that have to do with things like life after death and such, makes my brain want to explode! I don't know how _Ron _of all people can stand it!

As for Harry and me, he is refusing to get married before I finish my seventh year, even though he essentially _skipped _his. I've tried everything I can think of to convince him that there's no need to wait, but he's completely obstinate. There's no way he'll budge.

So I'm at Hogwarts for my final year of schooling. Because of the wedding this weekend, I get to leave for a while, but then I'll be sent right back. I'll be away from my family, the Order, and Harry for another agonizing four months.

But then we'll be together forever.

There's another thing Hermione has me contemplating: forever. What exactly is forever? Does it last till death, or does forever continue into the next world to come, if there is indeed another world?

What does it mean to be with someone forever? I know the muggles say "Till death due you part" or whatever at their ceremonies, but is that really all forever is? If forever ends at death, forever could end tomorrow, or even today. Forever can be completely subjective to the person and the situation.

Of is forever something more?

If our souls still exist after our bodies die, can we communicate with other souls? Can we continue relationships into the next life, or are we all in the dark, completely alone?

Is there a God, or are we all here by mistake?

I personally think that question has a pretty clear cut answer: _how _could we be here by mistake? How did man come to be unless there is a God above directing us in some vast production of the experience of life?

How did we get here?

Your head is spinning, isn't it? Do you understand now why she's driving me _insane_?

I think this train of thought started because of the Dementors. They've been 'fired' from Askaban and released without restraint into the magical and muggle communities. _Big _mistake. Just today there were forty reports of Kisses throughout England, and those are only the ones included in the Daily Prophet! Harry, Christ-like as he is, has made it his _new _mission to capture them and prevent more 'souls' from being lost.

He believes that we all have a soul.

I can't say I completely agree with him, but there is something inside of us that causes life, and the loss of that something causes death. Whether it is a soul or something as simple as a heartbeat, the Dementors do take something from their victims. The 'soul' or 'heart' or whatever it is actually does leave your body.

Something about this has always bothered me. Where do the 'souls' go? What happens to them? Do they die? Are they still conscious and aware of everything around them?

_Can they be recovered?_

_

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_A/N: So, what did you think? Please review, this is only the introduction to my thoughts. Let me know how I could improve in here, and in the meantime don't shy from reading my other fic "I Take All the Blame". Thanks so much for reading this!

~hermionegarner


	2. Kiss of Death

A/N: So, Ginny is one of my favourite characters to write. Unfortunately, in the nature of this story I haven't seen a way to write her exactly how I want to. If you ahve any suggestions after reading this, please review and tell me how you think I can put across the classic 'Ginny' better. ;p

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DISCLAIMER: No one in this fic is mine. Nadda. I'm not even going to claim Ron this time, since he's in it so little. If you want to see people that _are _mine, read "I Take All the Blame".

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**KISS OF DEATH**

"Congratulations!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms around my brother.

He blushed slightly as he stared at his new bride. "Thanks, Gin."

"Better you than me," George remarked, smirking. "I don't know how on earth you can _stand _her!"

Ron punched him in the shoulder. I left them to their bantering and went to Hermione, who was deep in conversation with Professor McGonagall—something having to do with the changes a body has to overcome to be an animagus.

When she saw me, she beamed. I don't think I've _ever _seen her that happy in all the years I've known her. I guess they really _were_ a good match.

"Gin, isn't it wonderful?" she said, glancing at Ron sideways. "Just think—you and I are _sisters _now!"

I grinned. "Strange, isn't it?"

She laughed. "Not at all! I've always felt we were sisters at heart."

I had to agree with her on that one. Even though she could be _insanely _annoying at times, she was still my most trusted confident and friend. I wrapped her in an embrace before searching for the best man.

He was leaning silently against the wall, smirking slightly as he watched his friends from afar. I could tell he'd been thinking about Dementors again, and that was most definitely not a good sign. I didn't want him to be worried about anything in the little time we had together before I left—I wanted to have _fun_.

He didn't see me until I stopped only a few feet away from him. I put my hands on my hips and he smiled.

"Well, what do you think?" I asked, presenting the pink bridesmaid gown in the most flirtatious way I could.

He laughed and wrapped me in an embrace. "You look absolutely stunning, as always."

I held on to him tight. It was moments like this that I lived for, moments when I knew he loved me as much as I loved him. I let him caress up and down my spine as we swayed back and forth.

"I don't want to go back," I whispered.

Harry let out a sigh. "I don't want you to go back either."

I lifted my eyes to stare into his. "So don't let me."

Harry hesitated a moment before responding. "You _need _to go back, to learn more, be more prepared for what's out there—"

"I'm already prepared," I interrupted, trying hard to not sound annoyed. "_You _prepared me. There's nothing I could learn at Hogwarts that you haven't already taught me."

He smiled down at me, the smile that meant he was _again _thinking of me as a child. "But you haven't learned any _technique_. Besides, you don't want to leave your friends behind, do you?"

"I don't _care _about who I leave behind," I grumbled, pressing my head against his chest. "I just want to be with _you_."

I heard him sigh again and pull me tighter. In the distance, we heard Hermione laugh as Ron led her into a romantic dip. The laughter was cut off by his lips.

Harry stared in their direction, his eyes longing. Everyone _knew _that he wanted to marry me just as much as _I_ wanted to marry him; what we couldn't figure out was what was holding him back.

"I'm seventeen," I whispered.

His eyes left his friends and met mine. "You're still young."

"I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions."

He shook his head. "This is one decision you can't make on your own."

I frowned and brushed back a loose lock of his hair.

"Why won't you make it with me?"

Harry chuckled a little and looked back at the bride and groom.

"I don't know."

"You have nothing holding you back except your stubbornness," I pushed, knowing I had the edge.

He smiled and laughed again.

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," I responded, hoping against my better judgment that he was about to change his mind.

He just smirked and kissed my forehead.

"But I'm _really _stubborn."

I sighed and let the conversation drop. It was no use trying to reason with him; nothing could ever sway him to go against his first decision, no matter how little sense his reasoning made.

The night went by quickly. Speeches were given, toasts were made, and presents were opened. Ron and Hermione left for their honeymoon on some obscure island in the Caribbean somewhere around 21:00. The rest of us were left to clean up the mess from all of the celebrations. Much to my mother's dismay, George and Charlie had decided to send the newlyweds off with a fantastic display of fireworks. While they were beautiful and entertaining, they were also _extremely_ messy.

As everyone else set to work, I felt Harry's arms around me and heard him whisper in my ear. "I have something to show you."

Eagerly, I followed him into the trees. The previous summer, Harry and I had carved our names into a tree in a clearing not too far away from the Burrow, much like muggles do. It was to this clearing he led me, and when we arrived I saw a mirror I had heard so much about, but never actually looked into. Staring back at me from the Mirror of Erised was Harry dressed in a tux, his arms around me in a white dress. I smiled.

"What do you see?" he asked sarcastically.

"I think you know," I responded, smirking slightly.

"You're going to finish school," he said as he knelt down next to me. I held my breath as he conjured a ring in his hand.

"But that doesn't mean we can't take the next step."

I was speechless. I honestly didn't know what to say to him! He laughed as he stood and pushed the ring onto my left hand ring finger before kissing me tenderly.

When we parted, I laughed and threw my arms around him, excited. Even though we wouldn't actually get married for a while, having the ring seemed to make it seem a little less far off. Going back to school was going to be _much _easier for me now; all I'd need to do to think of Harry would be to look at my left hand.

Overcome with emotion, I placed my lips against his once more. He pulled me tighter and ran his hand through my hair. I caressed his neck as we stood there, completely absorbed in each other.

Eventually, I realized that both of us were shivering, not because of our emotions, but because the air was getting _cold_. We parted, and Harry took out his wand precautiously. With a start I realized that I had left mine on a table when Harry and I slipped away. I couldn't _believe _I had been so careless!

Slowly, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear and sadness overcome me. I saw Harry's eyes widen and knew he was feeling the same thing.

"Dementors," I whispered.

Harry grabbed my arm and we started running towards the Burrow. By the time we realized the feeling was getting stronger, it was too late for us to turn back. Four of them appeared in front of us, blocking our path. Three came up behind us, and they began closing in.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled. The Dementors around us fled, but we could feel more coming in our direction.

"GINNY, RUN!" he screamed.

I did so, not paying attention to the direction I was running in or whether or not Harry was behind me. I heard him repeat the spell several times, and each time he sounded more distant. With a start I realized that he had stayed exactly where he was and was trying to fight off every single Dementor that came through. I turned around, hoping to find that Harry was, in fact, following me, and my ears were playing tricks on me; instead, I came face to face with one of the creatures.

I gasped and fell to the ground in fear. I didn't have any way to defend myself against this creature, and there was no way Harry was going to get here in time…

As the Dementor approached, I felt myself go completely rigid. In my mind, I heard the mocking voice of Tom Riddle from my first year at Hogwarts, heard myself screaming as I was taken down into the Chamber…

Cold, clammy hands grasped my shoulders. There was nothing I could do to stop them. The Dementor lifted me off of the ground and pulled my face close to his. It was the most horrible and sickly thing I had ever laid my eyes on, and somehow, I managed to scream.

Suddenly, I felt something being violently ripped from my body. I tried to resist, but there was nothing I could do. The feeling ran through my legs, up to my heart, and out of my open mouth. I was vaguely aware of someone screaming my name, but all of my senses were dulled. My vision was slowly disappearing, the world around me becoming a blur of indescribable shapes and colors. Everything seemed to blend together, and I felt my body go completely limp.

The last thing I saw was what I could only assume was Harry, his wand outstretched. He yelled something, and there was a bright flash of light.

Then, everything went black.

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A/N: What did you think? The next chapter's where it really starts getting interesting...as I writer anyway. If you're curious, review!!


	3. Fighting For Identity

A/N: If this chapter confuses you, don't worry--it confuses me too. :D

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_DISCLAIMER: _At least one--if not two--of the characters in this chapter belong to J.K. Rowling. The 'One', however, are possibly my own creation...probably, since I don't think Ms. rowling really ever touched on this part of the magical world.

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**FIGHTING FOR IDENTITY**

Where am I?

_You're with us now_.

Who are you?

_We were once like you. But now we are One._

Do you have any names?

_We are One._

What's happening—

_IT BURNS! GET AWAY!_

What was that?!

_Happiness._

Why did it _hurt_?

_Happiness always hurts. Sadness is tolerable. Fear is pleasure._

Can you see anything?

_We can sense many things. In time, you will too, when you have become One._

But I don't _want _to be 'One'—

_You will become One._

How long have you been here?

_Years, weeks, days, hours._

Can I get out?

_There is no leaving here_.

Are you sure?

_We haven't tried. Why would we want to leave here? Here we are One. We cannot be separated. There, we are Many._

What if I don't want to be One?

_You will_.

But I _can't_—

_Become One._

No!

_BECOME ONE_.

NO!

_You are taking too long._

I will NOT become 'One'—

_You wanted to sense the world outside?_

I want to _see _the world outside—

_Then you have to become One_.

What happens then?

_You can sense everything. You are a part of all of us._

Will I stay that way?

_Yes._

No! I don't want to—

_You must._

I can't—

_You will, in time._

No, I WON'T.

**They will try to force you.**

Who are you?

**I'm just like you.**

_Don't listen to him—_

**Don't listen to **_**them**_**.**

How have you stayed separate?

**I just refuse to join them.**

Is it really that simple?

**No.**

What do I do, then?

_We agreed you would be silent—_

**Not when someone resists.**

How do I stay separate?

**Think of something happy. Don't think about where you are.**

_NO! IT BURNS!_

**You're doing great!**

_STOP!_

**Can you always keep that thought with you?**

I think so.

**What is it about?**

…That's private.

_STOP!_

**They'll leave you alone eventually if you keep thinking about it.**

How long have you been here?

**I can't measure time here. Only they can.**

You don't have any idea?

**I've felt about forty souls join them.**

_JOIN US!_

**LEAVE HER BE!**

Are there any others like you?

**Not here.**

Then where?

**Perhaps in other Dementors.**

What is your name?

…**I don't remember.**

Really?

**Try to hold on to yours—what is it?**

Ginny.

**I will remind you if you start to forget.**

…Thank you?

**You're welcome.**

Can you…see anything?

**If I focus hard, I can sense the outside world.**

_Liar—_

_**They **_**are the liars.**

What do you focus on?

**People I knew.**

Do you remember their names?

**No, only faces.**

And when you think about them, you can see the outside?

**In a sense.**

Do you think I'll be able to?

**Perhaps, Ginny.** **Practice.**

Do you remember _anything _about yourself?

**I know I was a wizard. That's how I came to be here.**

Do you remember why the Dementor kissed you?

**No—**

_He lies!_

**All right, so maybe I do. I remember I was in Azkaban.**

Do you remember why?

**No.**

_We do._

**Neither of us want to listen to you.**

_You were filled with sadness._

**And yet I am able to resist you.**

_Sad people always focus on only the happy things._

**How ironic.**

_But you are not sad, Ginny._ _You are fearful._

**Leave her alone.**

_You were worried about someone. Who?_

Just someone I knew.

**Don't respond to them. They're trying to lure you in.**

_Did you think he was being unwise?_

Yes—

**Stop, Ginny.**

_Why wouldn't he marry you?_

How do you know about that?

_It was part of your memory._

**Ginny, be careful.**

_Why?_

He didn't think I was old enough—

_Or he didn't think you were good enough._

That's not true!

**Ginny, ignore them.**

_He didn't intend on marrying you. He was only trying to appease you._

That's NOT true!

**STOP LISTENING TO THEM.**

_He's refused you for so long. Remember how sad you were? Remember the pain you felt?_

Stop, please—

**GINNY! STOP!.....Ginny? Ginny, answer me.**

_There is no Ginny._

**Ginny—**

_We are not Ginny. We are One._

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A/N: What did you think? Too strange? Too confusing? Personally, I think this is an extremely interesting concept. Send me your thoughts!


	4. Living Without You

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A/N: So, originally Ginny was going to be the only narrator in this fic. When I started writing the last chapter, however, I realized that if I stayed with Ginny and _only _Ginny the entire time, it would be a pretty short fic compared to what I had intended. Trying to work out this problem, I decided that it would be worth it to switch to Harry's point of view particularly. I have never tried to write Harry before, so if you have any suggestions after reading this chapter, please let me know.

Enjoy!

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_DISCLAIMER: _You cannot imagine how much I wish I was J.K. Rowling. Alas, I am not, but a teenage fanfiction writer who dreams of being something more, and who cannot claim these wonderful characters of whom I write.

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**LIVING WITHOUT YOU**

"GINNY!"

My heart was racing uncontrollably. My worst fear over the past few months had been that something like this would happen—that Ginny would be in danger because of the dementors. Truthfully, I never really thought it would happen; Ginny was a skilled enough witch to take care of herself.

That's why I didn't worry about the consequences of taking her into the forest that night. Her family even knew I was doing it; if there was any significant trouble, they could find us easily. There was no need to fear the forest or being alone.

My legs were moving without me telling them to. Everything around me was a blur—the only thing I could see was that horrible creature sucking the life out of my helpless fiancé. Even from the distance I was at, I saw her body start to go limp.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I shouted.

Light enveloped the scene before my eyes, briefly making it impossible for me to see her. When the light faded, I saw her body lying on the ground, as still as any inanimate object. I was with her in a heartbeat, pulling her into my arms. Her entire body was ice cold. Had I cast the spell in time? Was she all right?

All my senses seemed to be on alert. I could hear the sound of her breathing, as well as see the rise and fall of her stomach, but I still took her wrist to feel the pulse. I knew that my main concern didn't have anything to do with whether her body was alive or not, but I felt the need to make sure she wasn't struggling for air.

Feeling slightly relieved at the normality of her breathing, I moved my gaze up to her eyes. Although they were both open, there was no life in them, no emotion. They stared into the distance at nothing, completely oblivious to my presence. Their bright, shining blue was gone; they were grey.

_No_, I thought to myself, trying to suppress the truth from sinking in. I had seen too many victims of the Kiss to deny the facts, but I was almost completely unable to grasp the fact that Ginny was one of them…

"NO!" I screamed, no longer able to contain my emotions. "NO! NOT YOU! GINNY!"

I began sobbing and pulled her body closer to mine. My entire being was shaking, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I heard footsteps behind and a gasp as they stopped short.

"_Ginny_," I heard George whisper.

"Is she…all right?" he asked as he knelt down next to me.

I knew he already knew the answer, but just like me he didn't want to admit it. I heard myself wail and clung onto Ginny's body as if it was my only chance to live. George stood up and ran back to the rest of the family to tell them the horrible, undeniable truth.

_She's gone…_

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At first, I wouldn't let them take her to St. Mungos. I was convinced that I could take care of her, that I would be able to keep her body living, even if her soul were not. In the end, the Weasleys convinced me she would be safest in a ward, but I only consented on the condition that visiting hours wouldn't apply to me. The people at St. Mungos knew better than to object.

I knew it was entirely my fault. Had I not taken her away from her family and into the woods, she would have been completely safe. She would have had her wand with her, she would have been surrounded by other witches and wizards, and she wouldn't have been left to fend for herself. I was the one that had told her to run, and when she did, I didn't pay attention to the direction. I was under the impression that they were all in my general area, that there were none once you escaped it. I had never imagined that Ginny would become victim to the Dementor's Kiss…

Ron and Hermione didn't find out for a week. They had purposely not told anyone the exact location of where they would be, which was perfectly understandable, but highly inconvenient. Looking back, we probably wouldn't have told them that night even if we had been able to reach them. There was no reason to ruin their wedding day with news of something that was irreversible.

When Ron and Hermione did return from their honeymoon, they were obviously completely shocked. Ron decided to join me in finding and locking up all the dementors immediately, often leaving Hermione in their house alone. Hermione didn't mind—she was busy reading everything she could about victims of the Kiss, even though she knew it was useless. In the entire history of the world, no one had ever 'recovered' from the Kiss. We all knew that she was gone, that we would never hear her laugh again, that she would never smile. We knew she wouldn't talk to us, she wouldn't see or recognize us.

And yet, we still hoped.

I visited her every day—well, usually multiple times a day. About a month after it happened, it was just as normal to see me there as it was to see any of the doctors. People who had been excited to meet 'The Chosen One' now regarded me as just another human being, one they were used to seeing regularly. It was almost as if I was a part of her room—I brought her flowers every day, and tended to the ones that were already there. I would bring pictures of her family and place them on the walls. Everyone was well aware that it was _her _room—she would stay there until she died.

I still hadn't quite accepted that fact. To me, she was just the same Ginny, only petrified. Often, I would talk to her, tell her about my day and what was going on in everyone else's lives. I would update her on our captures of dementors as well; each time I caught a new dementor, I wondered in my mind whether _this _was the dementor that had taken my Ginny away from me. As far as I knew, there was no way to tell, but still I wondered.

Months passed. I had quit my job as an auror to search for dementors full time. It seemed that the more we caught, the more attacks there were, and the more frequent they seemed to become. I was thankfully able to save many other souls from the fate Ginny's had suffered.

_Why did she have to suffer it? Why wasn't I fast enough?_

What I hated most was spending time with the Weasleys. Of course, none of them blamed me outwardly, but I knew inside they were all struggling with the fact that the very person who had saved their daughter when he was twelve hadn't been able to repeat the action at the age of eighteen. After killing Voldemort and saving the entire magical world, I was tragically unable to save the person that I loved.

Time went by so quickly that none of us could quite believe it when Ron and Hermione said they were going to Rome for their anniversary. They weren't leaving until a few days after their actual anniversary; no one was quite ready to celebrate on that specific day, not even the two of them.

When the day did come, I sat on the edge of her bed, gazing at her beautiful face. It had aged some over the past year, although the change was barely noticeable. There were two dozen roses on the nightstand next to her of all different colors. I took her left hand in mine and found myself stroking her ring.

"Happy Anniversary," I whispered.

I had decided that I was going to try to remember this day as the day we got engaged, _not _as the day I lost her. As far as I was concerned, our marriage had been finalized that day.

I would never love anyone else.

I thought back to that fateful day one year ago, thought back to the happiness I had felt before the dementors attacked. In my mind, I relived the sensation of her lips against mine, my hand running through her hair. I felt once again the excitement as I put the diamond ring on her finger. She had been so _warm…_

Now she was cold.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, knowing it was probably best for me to try and forget what happened on this day, pretend she was only resting.

"Guess what Ron told us at dinner last night?" I asked her, trying to smile. "Hermione's pregnant! Three months in. You're going to be an aunt, Ginny!"

My thoughts immediately turned to what the child's relationship with his or her aunt would be like, and the fake happiness was gone. I buried my face in my hands, feeling all the sadness I had ever felt in one single moment. Most days I could pretend, I could forget about reality for a while…

Not today.

I heard the door open, but didn't turn. The doctors were used to seeing me there, and I was used to them periodically entering and exiting the room.

Whoever it was sat down in the chair behind me. I didn't turn to look until he spoke.

"How're you holdin' up, mate?"

I sighed and turned to look at my best friend. "Why aren't you with your wife?"

"We wanted to ask you to come to dinner with us," he said tentatively.

"On your anniversary?"

"Why not?"

"You should spend time alone. I don't want to be a bother."

Ron ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated. "We _want _you to come, Harry."

There was a long pause. I turned back to look at Ginny, feeling increasing sad and regret for what had happened a year ago. If I had only been faster, if I had paid better attention…

"We miss her too, mate," Ron said quietly.

I heaved a sigh, realizing that I was being selfish. She was just as important to her family as she was to me, and here I was acting like I was the only one that cared.

I forced myself to smile at Ron. "All right. When?"

He looked at me, slightly surprised. "Now, Harry. Hermione's waiting downstairs."

"This early?"

"Early? It's 19:00! How long have you been here?"

I shook my head and unwillingly let go of Ginny's hand. I stood and gathered my things, then bent over her and kissed her forehead as I was about to leave.

"_I love you_," I whispered, and reluctantly turned away to follow my best friend out of the door.

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A/N: So what did you think? What could I have done better? What did I do well? How are you feeling about the story in general? Thanks for reading!


	5. Daring to Hope

A/N: This is a bit of a fill-in chapter, just so you know...I should have the next chapter up pretty soon, actually. For whoever's reading this, thank you for your support and please give me feedback so I can be a better writer!

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_DISCLAIMER: _There are not many things that I claim in this story. I've only claimed the One so far, and in this chapter I claim the character Gregory Nelson completely as my own. There are people I would _like _to claim (a really cute red-head that happens to be married to the previous Miss Granger), but I, unfortunately, cannot.

* * *

**DARING TO HOPE**

The restaurant was a small establishment just about where Diagon Alley met Knockturn Alley. It was called The Crossroads for this reason. Before I had defeated Voldemort, this had been a recruiting station for Death Eaters, but after the war was won it was cleaned out and put under new management—namely, George Weasley. He was never actually in the restaurant, however; he was always next door in the joke shop, keeping the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes business alive by constantly working on new projects. The restaurant itself was actually run by Angelina, who was as talented of a cook as she was a chaser.

I was extremely relieved when I heard that she had taken the day off for today and one of her friends was in charge. It meant that Ron, Hermione, and I wouldn't have anyone to distract us from trying to have a good time except ourselves, and we wouldn't be as guarded with each other as we would around the rest of the Weasleys.

Hermione and Ron were perhaps the only people who didn't blame me at all, including myself. I thought that they _should_ blame me, that it truly was my fault that they couldn't celebrate their anniversary the way they wanted to. But, being the amazing friends that they are, they did not resent me for any of my actions. In fact, they had tried to support me, to tell me that there was no way I could have known, that I was perfectly justified in my actions and didn't have anything I needed to repent of. I was grateful for their friendship, but at the same time I didn't believe anything they were saying. This day was supposed to be the happiest day in their relationship, and because of me they couldn't enjoy it.

We walked into the restaurant and picked a small, obscure table in the very back of the room, virtually unnoticed by anyone aside from the waitress. We didn't have to order; we came here enough that everyone knew what we wanted and just brought it out to us. All three of us were silent for a moment or two, not quite sure what there was for us to talk about.

"How are you, Hermione?" I asked, taking her hand and squeezing it. I hadn't seen her for more than a month now—I had been so busy with the dementors that I hadn't taken the time to come and see her.

She smiled. "I'm just fine, Harry. Nothing out of the ordinary."

I raised my eyebrows. "I think carrying a baby would be a bit out of the ordinary for you, Herm."

She quickly turned to stare at her husband, who shrank in his seat.

"I thought we agreed we would tell them _together_," she hissed.

"It just came out!" Ron said, raising his hand slightly in protection. "You know how bad I am at keeping secrets!"

"How long have you known?" she asked me, sighing as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Only since last night," I replied, stifling laughter.

"Does everyone know?"

"Everyone who was at your in-law's house for dinner. Why weren't you there, Hermione?"

"I was working," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"You have a job?"

"Well, not exactly…"

I frowned. "Then what were you doing?"

She sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "I was researching something. I spent the whole day doing it, actually."

"You couldn't take a break to come to dinner?" I asked, curious.

"No," Ron said before his wife could respond. "She was in Australia at the time."

My eyes widened. "Australia?"

"She found someone she wanted to ask some questions about her research," Ron continued. "He agreed to meet with her."

"And you were okay with that?" I asked him, smirking.

"No, he _wasn't_," Hermione said, obviously still annoyed. "Not until I set up the meeting at my parent's house, that is."

"Does the guy even live in Australia?" I inquired.

"New Zealand," she responded, waving the question away with her hand.

"What were you researching?" I questioned, my interest truly peaked.

She opened her mouth to respond just as the waitress came with our orders. The conversation was temporarily postponed as all of us delved into out meals, and our own thoughts.

I gazed absentmindedly at the couple across the table from me—they were so happy, so in love with each other. There were no regrets in their relationship; they had everything they could ever have hoped for in each other, and they were able to be with each other every single day. The best I could do was stare at a lifeless form in a hospital bed and talk to myself.

After a few minutes, Hermione seemed to notice my sadness. She didn't have to ask me why I wasn't feeling well or what the problem was—she already knew. Slowly, she placed her fork on her plate and reached across the table to take my hand.

"Harry—" she began.

"She should be here," I whispered. I felt a tear slowly fall down my cheek and hit the back of my hand.

The next thing I knew, Hermione had stood up to sit back down next to me. She brushed the hair out of my face tenderly before taking both of my hands in hers.

"Remember what I told you about the research I was doing?" she asked.

I nodded. "It's hard to forget after only about five minutes."

She let herself be embarrassed for only a moment before continuing. "The person I was interviewing was a man by the name of Gregory Nelson. When he was sixteen, he lived in London with his father, who was a business partner with Lucius Malfoy. Unfortunately for him, Mr. Malfoy decided he would rather work alone and murdered him—using Gregory's wand. Gregory was found guilty of the crime and was sent to Azkaban."

"Hermione, where are you—"

"After two years, he was sentenced with the Dementor's Kiss," she concluded, trembling with excitement.

It seemed as if all of the air was pushed out of my lungs. I sat there, staring at her, not daring to believe, hardly comprehending the statement she had just made.

"You mean…" I started, unable to say the words for fear that they might not be true.

"He found his way back, Harry," she whispered, her eyes bright.

Instantly, I was on my feet. I clumsily fumbled in my pocket for some galleons and set them on the table for Ron and Hermione to pay for the dinner before heading towards the door.

"Where are you going, Mate?" Ron called after me, also standing.

"New Zealand," I yelled in response as the door shut behind me.

* * *

"I really can't remember that much, Mr. Potter. I'm sorry."

"You must know _something _I could do to help her?" I said desperately.

Mr. Nelson shook his head. "I was in a coma for a whole week after my soul returned to my body. During that week, all of my memories of what it was like as part of the One completely left me."

"The One?" I asked, confused.

"The collection of souls in each individual dementor," he explained. "Once yours has been added, there's absolutely no way to separate yourself from it. The One act as one being in what they sense as well as what they think."

"But if there's no way to separate yourself from them," I inquired. "How did you get out?"

"That's just the thing," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I really don't remember. I had completely lost my identity, I know that much. It was only when I saw my mother after I woke up that my memories returned."

"But you really don't know how you escaped the dementors?"

He shook his head sadly.

In silent frustration, I buried my face in my hands. He was my only link, and he couldn't tell me _anything_.

"You don't have any ideas?" I asked once more.

He sighed, thinking it over once again. "Only one, and it's a long shot."

"Yes?"

"I seem to remember one of our number leaving the One," he said, thoughtful. "It was when my dementor was captured for the first time. Someone that this soul had known was the one who caught us, and it seemed to bring back his identity for a while—kind of like my mother brought back my memory. I'm sorry to say that we soon lured him back into the One, but even if he could have stayed separate, I don't know where he would have gone from there. I'm assuming I went through a similar separation process, but I don't know what I did differently."

"It's better than nothing," I responded, standing and gathering my things. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Nelson."

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter," he said, standing. "But do you know how many dementors are out there? The chances of finding the one that took your fiancé are extremely slim."

I forced myself to smile, and he stared at me in shock.

"Then I guess I'll just have to catch all of them, won't I?"

* * *

A/N: I have to say, I absolutely love that last line! Did you? How can I improve? Strong critique encouraged, but don't be rude, please! Review!!


	6. Searching for Answers

A/N: I am incredibly sorry that it has taken me so long to post this next chapter! I was having a little bit of writers block, so I started brainstorming ideas and something came up in my writing that sparked this chapter. Despite the apparent irrelevantness of Ron and Hermione's life in this chapter, there are things here that will be very important later on, so bear with me while I continue to construct this plot!

* * *

_DISCLAIMER: _I do not own these characters. Not one of them.

* * *

**SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS**

"Hermione, come to bed."

"Just a few more minutes, Ron," I said mechanically, absorbed in my reading.

He sat down and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "You've been at it for hours."

I blinked, recognizing just how tired my eyes were. Ever since I had visited Gregory Nelson, I had been constantly searching for other cases such as his. I had visited libraries all throughout Europe and even a few across the Atlantic, hoping to find at least one other, someone who could give me more answers.

Nothing.

So I turned to studying dementors themselves. There is very little known about what happens to souls after they have been taken from their body; we know that they're still _alive_, or at least that they still exist, because otherwise their bodies would stop functioning, but are they _active_ in some way? From what Mr. Nelson had been able to recall, they were, in fact, active. They became a concrete part of the dementor.

Somehow, I felt this _couldn't _be the answer. How could they permanently be a part of the dementor if Mr. Nelson found his way out? Perhaps they conformed to the identity of the dementor, but they couldn't _become _the dementor. If they did, where did the first dementor come from? Did it appear from someone's lost and tortured soul? Or was the dementor something else entirely, only a container for the souls, a being who could live quite contently without a soul to support it?

For three days I had been gathering books and histories of dementor activity, hoping to have some insight on the inner workings of a dementor. After studying them for the past four hours, I realized that these books were highly inconclusive, not giving me any of the information that I wanted. In reality, they were records of dementor attacks, how they came to be guardians of Azkaban, a history of many well-known victims and why they were attacked, and other such unimportant details. There was _nothing _about how dementors worked; it was as if no one had ever asked the question before.

I sighed and slowly shut the book I was reading. "I don't _understand_, Ron…"

"What is it?"

"_No one_ has ever tried to research this?"

He smiled half-heartedly. "Not everyone has a mind like yours, Herm."

"Well, you'd think that _someone_, during the entire history of magic, would have wondered what happened to people after they were Kissed."

"I can't think of any way to research it without being Kissed yourself," Ron retorted, shrugging his shoulders. "I doubt anyone was dedicated enough to try that."

"It's as if no one has even thought about it before."

Ron took my hand in his and caressed it gingerly. "Maybe all of the people who _did _think about it ended up in Ginny's situation."

I was silent for a moment as I thought about what he had said. It was surprisingly logical. If you were researching dementors as no one had before, it would stand to reason that you would need to study an actual dementor, not just sit in your room and think.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead lovingly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Don't be one of those people, all right?"

I smirked. "Don't worry, I'll wait until the baby's born to go after dementors."

"Not funny," he said sternly, pulling me out of my chair.

"Well _I'm_ not exactly happy with _you _running off after them," I responded.

Ron sighed, placing his arm around my waist as we walked to our bedroom. "Can we forget about all of this for the moment? Are you packed for tomorrow?"

"Oh, I completely forgot!" I said, frustrated with myself. "Are you sure we should still go? Harry might need us--"

"It's our first anniversary," Ron said, stopping in front of the door to our room.

"But we don't have to go to Rome," I replied.

"I already paid for everything, Hermione!" he responded, obviously getting agitated. "Do you know how much harder I've worked saving up for this? I knew you had always wanted to visit, and I was excited to see a little more of the muggle world--"

I cut him off with a short kiss.

"I really appreciate all of that, Ron," I whispered.

He exhaled heavily and entered the room alone. I stayed in the doorway.

"She's my best friend," I said.

"And she's my sister," he retorted as he climbed into bed. "She wouldn't want all of out energy to be focused on her. She would want us to live our own lives."

"Have you tried to explain that to Harry?" I asked, now entering the room and sitting on the bed.

Ron sighed as he pulled me closer. "Of course, but you know Harry. Never knows a good piece of advice when it's staring him straight in the face."

"Or maybe he just loves her," I responded quietly. "Ron, if something like this happened to you--"

"Don't even think about that," he said, his mood improving. His hand ran up and down my arm lovingly, and I sighed.

"I'm only saying I can understand how he feels," I replied.

"So can I," he said slowly. He leaned in and kissed me tenderly.

"I wouldn't be able to live without you."

I smiled, and stood up once more. "I better start packing."

"We don't leave until late in the afternoon," Ron said. "You don't have to start now."

"Well what would you have me do?" I asked.

"Get some rest," he replied, concern in his eyes. "You're working yourself too hard."

I decided it would be best to yield to my husband's wishes rather than fight them. After I had changed and joined Ron in the bed, I felt him wrap his arms around me and heard him whisper in my ear.

"One more thing."

"What, Ronald?"

"Don't bring any of those wretched books."

I smiled to myself and relaxed in his arms.

"As you wish."

* * *

I did _not _understand why we had to take a plane; I would much rather drive across the continent than fly over it, and aside from that fact, I didn't understand why we couldn't just apparate to Rome. That was at least what I thought until we arrived at the airport around 13:00 the next day, greeted by two very familiar faces waiting at the gate.

"Ron," I said quietly as we approached them. "What are my parents doing here?"

"They haven't seen you for a year, Hermione," he responded, squeezing my hand. "They'll only be with us for a few days, but I thought it would be nice if you spent some time with them."

I sighed in frustration. "We're not exactly on speaking terms, Ron."

Ron slumped slightly. "I thought that getting to know me more might change their minds…"

My parents had not been happy about my marriage to Ron at all; they had even had the nerve to refuse to come to my wedding. It had all started when we came to Australia and restored their memories—they were _furious _that I had sent them there in the first place, whether or not it was for their safety, and were even more unhappy when they learned of what I had been involved in during all my years at Hogwarts (I had never _really _told them who Voldemort was or how involved I was in the fight against him). They immediately assumed that it was all Ron's doing, that if I had never met him I would never have become such a disappointment.

In a way, they were right. Had it not been for Ron, I would have stayed the way I was at the beginning of my first year at Hogwarts—a snobby, know-it-all jerk who had no chance at making friends. I can't say I'm happy about _everything _that had come as a consequence of being one of Harry Potter's best friends, but I can say that my life it _much_ less of a disappointment now than it would have been otherwise.

So they had been avoiding me, and I them, for the past year or so of my life. I hadn't felt that I really needed to have any contact with them, and they obviously hadn't missed me enough to try to contact me. But my husband, feeling guilty for his part in this row, had apparently decided to try and make things right, and I couldn't say I was in any way glad to learn that part of my anniversary was to be spent with them.

My parents reactions to seeing me were about what I would have expected them to be. My mother forced a polite smile and waved unenthusiastically, while my father stood still as stone, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes staring at me sadly.

"Hi," I said softly, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

My mother's face softened and she stood and wrapped her arms around me loosely. "Hi, Hermione," she whispered.

As she pulled away from me, my father only nodded curtly in my direction in replace of a greeting. I shrunk away slightly at his cold gaze.

"Well," Ron said, clearing his throat. "I believe our flight if boarding…are you all set to go, Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"

"Yes," my mother said quickly, retrieving her purse from the ground. My father only grunted and picked up his briefcase. The two of them went ahead of us, not looking back once.

"This should be interesting," I whispered.

Ron released my arm slowly. "I'm beginning to think it was a bad idea."

"Really?" I responded, widening my eyes.

Simultaneously, we both sighed, then followed my parents onto the plane.

* * *

A/N: What did you think? Comments? Concerns? Let me know!


	7. Learning to Cope

A/N: I have been soooooo busy!!!! AAAAAAAAARGH!!! But I'm happy to be writing again! The next chapters should (hopefully) be up quicker!!!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Nada. (Except Gregory Nelson.)

* * *

**LEARNING TO COPE**

"So, Ronald, what kind of a living do you make?"

I buried my face in my hands. My father had been drilling Ronald about everything he had ever done in his life or that his parents had done in theirs. It was just now that he was starting to question whether Ron could take care of me.

"Enough to support a family, Mr. Granger," he responded democratically.

"How much is 'enough'?" my father asked.

"_That_ is enough!" I responded, standing up at the dinner table.

My mother and father stared at me, dumbfounded.

Ron took my hand gently. "It's all right, 'Mione."

"No, it's not!" I said, pulling my hand away. I could feel my cheeks burning up as my anger began to get the best of me. "From the moment we stepped on that plane yesterday, you have done nothing but insult my husband. You have questioned his character, loyalty, and his ability to provide for me. You have questioned my judgment and character as well, and I am not going to stand for it any longer!"

My father looked shocked and my mother deeply pained.

"I love Ron," I continued. "and nothing you can say or do will ever change that."

The silence in the room was deafening. My father's face slowly fell into a concerned frown, while my mother tried to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

My father sighed. "Hermione, you're right. I'm sorry."

I blinked, feeling the blood rush out of my face.

"The least I can do is act civil," he said softly.

The mood in the room slowly returned to awkward politeness. I could see my mother was shaken by the episode, but I was not at the point where I was ready to apologize for what I had said, for it was all true.

At length, Ron squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear, "We should tell them."

I stared at him, shaking my head. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Is there a problem?" my mother asked.

"No," I responded, still eying my husband.

"Will you excuse us for a moment?" Ron asked, taking me into the other room.

He closed the door quietly, and then turned towards me. "They're your parents, Hermione."

"Do you think they're ready to hear that I'm having a child with you?" I retorted.

"Whether or not they're ready," Ron said, stroking my cheek. "it's unfair to keep it from them. My parents know, most of our friends know—this isn't something that you can just keep a secret."

"All right," I said, realizing that he was right. "but not until we come home tomorrow night."

* * *

The next day was, to say the least, extremely awkward. All of us tried to ignore our personal feelings and have a fun time enjoying the Roman culture all around us, but in everything we did there was an underlying current of uneasiness. Each time the four of us were alone and not on a tour, this was felt very strongly. I was reconsidering my decision to tell them about the child I was carrying, as their moods did not seem to have improved from the previous night.

After visiting the Coliseum (which was just as wonderful as I had imagined) we went to a local restaurant and enjoyed a silent dinner. I was getting more and more annoyed at Ron for inviting them to come along, and I think he was regretting the decision the more time we spent with them. I could tell, however, that my mother was grateful to be spending time with me, at least, even if she was unhappy about my husband. As always, my father was impossible to read.

"That was delicious," my mother said once she finished eating, breaking the long silence. My father nodded in agreement as he too put his fork down.

When Ron called for the check, my father looked at his watch, yawning. "I'm ready to get in bed," he commented.

"Go on ahead of us," Ron insisted. "We'll catch up to you in a few minutes. The hotel's just a couple of blocks North."

My parents accepted his invitation and rose to leave. About a minute after they left the table the waiter returned, and when Ron and I left we could see my parents only about a block ahead of us—they had obviously been enjoying looking at the scenery as they walked home arm in arm. Watching them from behind, I felt a great sadness that I had been so cold to them. I saw in them the same love that Ron and I have for each other, as well as the great love they each had for me, no matter how disappointed they were with my choices. I felt ready to share my happiness with them, and hope that they would accept it.

Just as these thoughts crossed my head, a cold chill ran down my spine.

I glanced at Ron in horror. "We have to catch up to them."

He had felt it as well, and was already drawing his wand when I spoke these words.

"You go back into the restaurant," he said, urging me in that direction.

I shook my head and pulled out my own wand. "They're my parents."

Knowing there was nothing he could do to stop me, he took my hand and we ran together. Hearing our footsteps, my parents turned around to see us approaching them, wands outstretched.

My father opened his mouth to speak, but at the moment he did so, a dementor swooped out of an alleyway and took him by the shoulders. My mother shrieked in fear, searching for the force that had taken hold of her husband, when she too was flung into the air from the behind.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!!_" Ron and I screamed in unison.

Both dementors immediately dropped my parents and fled from our patronuses. My parents lay breathless on the ground, staring at the ghost-like images of otter and dog chasing away the darkness.

"Mum," I panted as I fell at her side. "are you all right?"

"Wh-what just ha—"

"Not here," Ron said, helping my father to his feet. "We need to get inside."

We quickly returned to the hotel, bolting the door behind us though we knew it would be of no protection. I went to work putting charms on the walls and doors to keep out intruders as Ron explained what dementors were, why my parents couldn't see them, and how we had repelled them.

"So, you're saying that those…things could have killed us?" my mother asked, frightened.

"No," I responded, joining my husband on the couch. "You would still be alive."

"But your soul would be missing," Ron finished.

My father furrowed his brow. "If our souls were missing, wouldn't we be dead?"

"You're bodies would still live," Ron responded.

It was evident that both of them were confused, so I decided to clarify Ron's meaning. "Imagine someone in a coma," I said. "It would be like that, except, you wouldn't wake up."

As I said that, I felt a lump get caught in my throat. I _knew _that couldn't be true, because Gregory Nelson _had _woken up. I had to have faith that Ginny would as well.

My parents saw my emotions begin to get the best of me and grew silent. Ron took me in his arms as I let the tears fall, and I felt his own run down my neck.

After a couple of minutes, my father said softly, "Who?"

"My sister," Ron said. "on our wedding day."

My mother gasped at the horror of it, even though I knew she still did not entirely understand.

Suddenly, my father stood and crossed the room to where Ron and I were sitting. Ron stood as well as he approached.

"We are indebted to you," he said. "I would like to take this opportunity to apologize—I judged you without even really knowing you."

He extended his hand, and Ron smiled as he shook it. I couldn't help but smile as well—I hadn't realized how much I had missed my parents.

My mother came over and wrapped Ron in a hug. As she did so, my father sat next to me and took my face in his hands, a grin creeping on his lips.

"I may never understand your world," he whispered. "or why you have made some of the decisions you have, but you will always be my daughter."

My emotions overcame me once more and I threw my arms around him.

"Now," Ron said as my father and I parted. "We have something to tell you."

I beamed and joined my husband standing as my parents took our places on the sofa.

"Mum, Dad," I began, hardly able to control my happiness at that moment. "You're going to be grandparents."

My mother's face lit up and my father's eyes crinkled. I felt a weight lifted off my heart realizing that they did still love me.

And they always would.

* * *

A/N: Well, what did you think? Did it seem pointless? It kind of was just a little bit, but it's to help give reason to later things in the story and to just add a little side plot as I create this story. Thanks for reading!! Now please, ReViEw!!!


	8. Dementor Hunting

A/N: I have been absolutely _horrible _about keeping up with this story, but it's simply because I've been working on others. I finished two, actually, and posted two one-shots! So I have been writing, I just haven't been writing _this _story.

Anyway, I hope you can forgive me, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Things will start moving ahead in the next couple, though this is kind of like another background/character chapter. Again, I am soooooo sorry for making you wait so long!

* * *

**DEMENTOR HUNTING**

"Have a safe drive home!" Hermione said as her parents prepared to leave our home. The trip had turned out to be such a pleasant experience that they took the liberty of staying with us in Herefordshire for a few days.

"You too, Dear," her mother responded, not able to wipe the smile off of her face.

As the two girls embraced, Mr. Granger extended his hand to me, and I gladly shook it.

"Take care of my little girl," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "And my grandchild."

"Don't worry, Mr. Granger," I responded. "I will."

"Call me Robert, Son," he said, turning on his heels as he did so to join his wife in their car. I watched them leave, a newfound happiness in my heart as I took my wife's hand in mine. For the first time, I was accepted by her parents. It didn't matter that the acceptance came because of a dementor attack—what mattered was that they realized the truth, that I truly cared about their daughter and would do anything to protect her.

I took my wife in my arms and kissed the back of her neck.

"I told you that everything would work out."

Hermione laughed, her sweet laugh. "You had your doubts, just like I did."

"But I was right for once," I teased. "And _you _were wrong!"

She playfully elbowed me in the stomach and wriggled out of my hold, heading to the kitchen to clean up the fish and chips we'd had for dinner. I watched her, my perfect angel, and felt almost immeasurable joy. If only Harry could be as happy as we were, if he could have Ginny back again…

I forced those thoughts out of my mind and focused on _my _life, what was going on right now. Without thinking, I stepped into the kitchen and took Hermione in my arms, giving her a passionate kiss. She willingly kissed back, smiling as she did so, and her eyes were shining when we parted, though I was still holding her in my arms.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"I love you," I responded. "And I never want to take you for granted."

She beamed at me and I released her so she could complete her task of picking up the kitchen. I headed to the bedroom and changed into pajamas. I needed to get some rest if I was going to join Harry on his hunt tomorrow. Hermione still wasn't happy about the fact that In was chasing dementors left and right every day, but she understood completely. She regrettably agreed to put aside her own efforts to bring Ginny back for the time being, realizing that it was more important that she keep herself and the baby safe, not that it didn't take a lot of persuading to convince her of this.

As I was about to climb into bed, I heard crackling in the fireplace and turned sharply, just in time to see Harry's face appear amongst the ashes.

"Did you have a nice trip?" he asked, forcing a smile.

"Define nice," I answered, smirking. "What are you doing, Mate?"

"There was an attack in Preston," he answered, his face now completely serious. "I'm going after them."

I grumbled in response. "When are you leaving?"

"Now," he responded, surprised that I would even ask the question.

"All right," I surrendered, reaching for the shirt I took off moments before. "I'll be at the hospital in a couple of minutes."

He smiled painfully, bothered by the fact that I knew he was at the hospital and _not _in his flat in Dartford. Hermione entered the room as I finished changing back into my clothes, a look of confusion flashing across her face for only a moment before it was replaced with understanding.

"Do you have to go now?" she asked, almost breaking my heart with the sadness in her voice.

I kissed her swiftly as I hurried out the door, just squeezing her hand in response. I ran out the door, apparating almost as soon as I was outside the circle around our house. I didn't even have to enter the wizard hospital—my friend was waiting for me at the entrance, holding a large crate in his hands.

"Ready?" he asked, knowing the answer. I was _never _really ready, but I had to be, for him.

And for Gin.

* * *

I did my best to close the door to our room quietly, not wanting to wake Hermione. I should have known that she would already be awake.

"How many?" she asked, causing me to jump as she turned on the light.

"Why'd you wait up?" I asked, annoyance in my voice.

"How many?" she repeated, not interested in answering my question until I answered hers.

I sighed. "There were seven, but we only caught three. Why are you up, Herm?"

"I can't sleep," she responded, her voice soft. "Not when I know that you're out there battling them face to face—or whatever it is they have. I keep waiting for the day that you don't come home, that Harry comes to tell me that you've taken the empty room next to Ginny's, or worse, someone from the ministry comes to tell me you've _both _been taken—"

"That's not going to happen," I said authoritatively, even though I knew I couldn't calm her worries with my words. "Harry and I know what we're doing—"

"Plenty of wizards more talented than you have fallen victim to dementors!"

She grew silent as she realized what she'd said. I felt my ears start to grow red, but did my best to hide my feelings, even though I knew she knew what I was feeling. I've always been ashamed of my sensitive feelings—even when I know she doesn't mean to offend me, I always get offended.

"Ron, I'm sorry—"

"Don't worry about it," I muttered. "I know I'm not worthy of you."

"Merlin!" she exclaimed, climbing out of bed to where I was changing into my pajamas for the second time that night. She wrapped her arms around my waste and placed her lips against my neck, letting out a sigh.

"_I'm _the one who's not worthy of you," she mumbled, kissing my neck sweetly. I breathed deeply, calming myself down.

"Do you really think that I would ever let a dementor take me?" I said at length, placing my hands on top of hers. "There's no way I'd let _anything _take me away from you and the baby."

"I know," she whispered. "That's what makes you such a better wizard than all of those idiots that let themselves be Kissed by something other than their wives."

I couldn't help but grin and didn't resist her when she turned me around and placed her lips on mine. Though we offended each other easily and often disagreed on what should and shouldn't be done, we both knew one thing—that we loved each other, and nothing could alter how we felt about each other.

I laid awake in my bed a while later, caressing my wonderful wife's arm as she slept. I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was, and how much I wished my best friend had the same thing I did. He and Ginny loved each other possibly even more than Hermione and I; _they _weren't arguing all the time. It was at that moment that I fully committed myself to his cause—catching and imprisoning all of the dementors, in the hopes that somehow, someday, we might be able to recover Ginny's soul somehow.

That was the whole question: _how?_ We knew that it had happened before because of that Nelson guy Hermione visited, but how in Merlin's name were we supposed to get Ginny back if he couldn't tell us anything about how he got back?

Then again, how could someone survive the killing curse twice?

I smiled and finally found some peace to sleep. If anyone could recover my sister's soul, Harry could.

And he would.

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A/N: What did you think? Did you like the writing/character development? Or are you just happy I started posting on this fic again? Anyway, please REVIEW! :D


	9. Transferring Souls

A/N: Okay, so the 'One' makes another appearence in this chapter, and I just wanted to refresh your memory on how the scenes inside the dementor work:

_-Anything written in italics represents the thoughts of the One._

**-Anything written in bold represents the thoughts of the soul that remained separate from the One.**

-Anything written in regular text represents Ginny's thoughts.

-And for this chapter, anything underlined represents the thoughts of another victim of the dementor's kiss.

Also, I'm aware that most chapters only have one point of view (ie Chapters 1 and 2 are from Ginny's pov, 4 and 5 from Harry's, 6 and 7 from Hermione's, without any interruption), but in this particular chapter I'm going to switch between who narrates each section. It shouldn't be too hard to follow, I just wanted you to be aware.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message, or just include them in the reviews I know you're going to leave ;p

* * *

**TRANSFERRING SOULS**

"What do you mean, they got out?"

"All three of them," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "They were able to push themselves out of the crate."

"Did you get them back?" I asked anxiously.

"With difficulty," he answered. "They almost got to my neighbors."

"We can't keep them in your flat anymore, Harry," I said authoritatively, sounding very much like my wife. "It's not safe for your neighbors, and you're not there over half the time anyway."

"Then where can we put them?" he exclaimed in frustration. "Where are we going to find a place remote enough where we can also keep a constant eye on them?"

I sighed. I'd had the idea in my head for a while now, but hadn't wanted to voice it out loud for fear of the repercussions. After what happened the night before, however, it seemed like I had no choice.

"There's an old shed out back," I said softly, making sure Hermione couldn't hear us from the kitchen. "It's a decent way away from the house, and I don't have any neighbors. I've been fixing it up—"

"Are you sure you want them so close?" Harry asked, sensing my hesitation.

"Definitely not," I answered truthfully. "But it's the best place I can think of—if it's too remote, we won't be able to keep an eye on them."

Harry nodded understandably, thinking it over. I could tell that he was just as reluctant as I to put the dementors so close to Hermione and the baby, but until we could find a more permanent place for them, it seemed to be the safest option.

"All right," he finally said. "But only temporarily. I'll find a place out in the country and start building something more permanent. Should we tell Hermione?"

I shook my head. "She would probably go in there and try to study them."

Harry smirked, knowing that I was right. Sometimes my wife could be _too _inquisitive.

We decided to move them that night, and I set to work making the shed more secure. Just as I was boarding the windows, I heard footsteps and turned to see my wife's brown eyes staring at me with sadness.

"What are you doing?" she asked quietly, stopping before she reached me.

"Don't worry about it," I responded, taking her hand. With a flick of my wand, the rest of the work was done, and we walked inside together.

"I need you to do me a favor," I said seriously, stopping her in the living room. She only nodded in response.

"Stay inside tonight," I ordered. She opened her mouth to ask why, but thought better of it and closed it. Instead, she kissed me lightly in response, her way of submitting to my request. I gently let go of her hand and walked to the fireplace, picking up a fistful of floo powder.

"Be safe," she called as I stepped inside. I smiled at her in response, throwing down the powder and speaking Harry's address.

When I stopped spinning, he was already standing, the crates piled up in the middle of his living room. I was taken aback when I saw that many of them were shaking, but tried to forget what was actually inside our packages.

"We'll have to make four trips," he said, nodding towards the eight crates on the ground. "Ready to go?"

I nodded, taking a hold of the first crate. Harry grabbed one as well, and we headed out the door.

Almost as soon as we were out, however, we stopped dead in our tracks. All of the lights in the hall were going off, and a sudden chill ran down both of our spines. We each set down the crate we were holding and ran, hoping we would reach the creature in time to save its prey. As an afterthought, I summoned one of the empty crates Harry had in his closet and it flew into my arms as I ran.

* * *

Where am I?

_You're with us now._

What does that mean?

_Join us, and we can tell you._

**Don't listen to them!**

_You're too late, once more. You should follow him. He has made the right decision-_

**Ginny, I know you're in there. I haven't given up on you. **

_There is no Ginny; we are One. _

**Ginny, listen to me. You are your own person! You are not part of them! **

_There is no Ginny! Be silent! _

**You're wrong. I know she's still there. **

_Silence! We sense fear. _

**And anger. **

_We are not interested in anger. Only fear and sadness. _

**He has plenty of sadness. **

* * *

Harry ran ahead of me, reaching the scene of the crime before I did. The dementor dropped the man it was holding, who we were obviously too late to save, and turned to face him as he stretched out his wand.

* * *

...Harry?

**Ginny! **

_No! You cannot leave us! It is impossible! _

HARRY! Harry, I'm right here! Wait-why can't I see him anymore? Harry!

**Focus on him, Ginny. **

_IT BURNS! _

I see him! Harry, please! I'm trapped!

**He won't be able to hear your thoughts. **

Harry...

_No! You cannot take us, wizard! _

He'll take us if he wants to.

* * *

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_" he yelled, fury filling his voice. I ran to the other side of the dementor and opened the crate, positioning it so Harry's patronus could chase the dementor inside. After doing this for almost a year, I barely had to think about what I was doing; it was almost second nature.

As soon as the creature was inside, I shut the lid, holding it tightly and sealing it with my wand. The box shook, but I ignored it. Harry ran to the body on the floor and growled in anger.

"We were too late," he observed, kicking the wall in frustration.

"There was no way we could have known, Mate," I said comfortingly.

Harry shook off my words, staring at the innocent muggle on the ground. I knew what he was thinking; what if this was the dementor that took Ginny? That was the thought he had every time that we captured one. It didn't help that he hadn't been able to save this one's victim—it only reminded him that he couldn't save Ginny.

* * *

I can't see him anymore.

**He's shut us up inside of a sort of crate or something. **

_The top won't come off! _

It's no use trying. He'll only capture us again.

**Ginny, who was he? **

...He was my fiancé.

**Do you think he's looking for you? **

Definitely, knowing him. How did I become separate again?

**How should I know? I've never been there! **

_Ginny, if you join us, we can get free, you can see him again- _

**Don't give in again, Ginny. You're the only thing that's been keeping me from joining them lately. **

I'm flattered.

**They've been increasingly persuasive. I wondered if it had to do with your personality. **

I doubt it. I couldn't persuade people very well while I was in my own body. It took forever to convince Harry to give me that ring-

**Had you two been engaged for long? **

Funny...I can't remember.

**Don't worry if you start forgetting things. There's not much I remember about my life before. **

_There's nothing to remember…__. _

Are you sure there's no way out of here? The dementor, I mean.

**Not that I know of, Ginny. **

Can you think of any possible ways-

_You cannot leave here! It is impossible! _

**Ginny, I've been here for a long time- **

Well maybe you haven't explored all of the options.

_You are angry... _

I know that without you telling me, thanks.

**I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm sure we can find a way-together. **

We have to. I have to see him again...

* * *

I sighed, closing the book I was reading. Why didn't Ron want me outside? And why was he being so secretive about that beat up shed? He's been fixing it up for about a month now and wouldn't tell me anything about it.

I listened intently for my husband's footsteps coming home, but didn't hear any. He was probably still out with Harry, finding and attacking dementors, risking his life.

My eyes opened wide. Maybe the shed had something to do with them. Was there something he was keeping from me in there, something that could help me find out how to bring Ginny back?

I bit my lip, knowing that I'd promised him to stop researching, and that I'd promised him I would stay inside tonight. My eyes shifted towards the window and I saw the shed a little ways off. I let out a deep breath and stood, taking my coat off the rack. Whatever was in there, I wanted to know, and I was going to whether Ron liked it or not.

_

* * *

__We almost have opened the crate!...It's open! We are free! _

Why can't I sense Harry?

**Because he's not here.**

_There is someone…she is coming closer...she has many sad memories…_

LEAVE HER ALONE!

**Do you know her?**

STOP! DON'T TAKE HER!

_She is very scared now…she is running…her soul is strong…it is precious…but there is another soul inside of her…_

STOP! HERMIONE!

**Ginny, there's nothing you can do…Ginny?**

_She is resisting! And now…there is a third soul…_

…**Ginny?**

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A/N: Well, what did you think? What happened? To find out, you have to review! :D


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